


It Was a Lover and His Lad

by Starships_and_Stopwatches



Category: L.A. Noire
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bonding, Canon Compliant, Cole tries his best, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Homophobia, I'm Bad At Tagging, Period-Typical Homophobia, Roy is the gayest man in hollywood, and isn't very good at hiding it, maybe ooc?, partners, seriously the scene where the four of them meet is the most canon compliant thing ever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-14 02:16:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17499701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starships_and_Stopwatches/pseuds/Starships_and_Stopwatches
Summary: Based off the scene where Cole and Roy meet with Cohen and Stompanato at the Mocambo Club.Cole notices a strange tension between his partner and Cohen's right hand man, Johny Stompanato. He vows to figure out what's behind it.----------AKA Roy's not that subtle with his flirting and Cole catches on.





	It Was a Lover and His Lad

**Author's Note:**

  * For [VaughnPerm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VaughnPerm/gifts).



> Title is a play off the song "It Was a Lover and His Lass" from none other than your favorite station, KTI Radio  
> I tried to keep this fic as canon compliant as I could, so the only thing I'm really not sure about is whether or not there really is a parking lot on N Sycamore.  
> See Notes at the end for more info on the context.

When Cole pulls up out front of the Mocambo Club, the first thing that catches his eye is the familiar — and unmissable, he must say — salmon color of his partner’s jacket. He looks over towards Roy and sees that he is leaning on a pole outside the entrance, waiting. When Cole opens the door to get out of the car, Roy pushes himself off the pole reluctantly and walks to meet him halfway. He heads back towards the club, however, when Cole gestures for him to lead. The two detectives enter the door to the club, and Roy immediately approaches the host desk.  
  
“LAPD. We’re looking for Meyer Cohen? I believe he has lunch here,” Roy says to the man behind the desk.  
  
The host looks hesitant. “There’s not going to be any trouble, is there?”  
  
But Roy, being Roy, ignores the host’s comment. “Which table?” he demands, his voice firm and slightly raised. If Cole hadn’t been in the Marines where he had experienced the wrath of DIs, he definitely would have been intimidated, so he isn’t surprised when the host gives up without a fight.  
  
“Number three. If you’ll follow me?”  
  
Cole follows the host closely through the doors to the main dining room, noticing how Roy lingers behind a bit, casually strolling behind the two towards their target. The host stops and points Cole towards the table where Cohen is seated. The detective nods a silent thanks to the host before approaching the table.  
  
“LAPD,” he starts. Both men at the table turn to look at him. “We have some questions regarding-”  
  
He is abruptly cut off by Roy as the man walks casually up behind him towards Cohen. “Hi Mickey, how’s it hanging?”  
  
The gangster shifts his gaze over to the senior detective. “Fine. Just fine, Roy,” Cohen answers like he’s greeting an old friend. Well, considering the way Cohen and Roy interacted during the Hammond case, Cole wouldn’t be surprised if the two could be considered something akin to ‘friends’.  
  
“I see you brought eager beaver along. Hope he’s not gonna put the shakes on me again,” Cohen continues, shifting his gaze briefly towards Cole before looking back at Roy.  
  
Out of the corner of his eye, Cole sees Roy gesture towards him with a slight turn of his head. “Cole Phelps, Mickey Cohen.”  
  
Cole nods his head towards the crime boss. “Good afternoon.” The man sitting next to Cohen laughs and turns to look at Cole.  
  
"He has manners,” the man quips. “Aren’t you a little green for this, kid?”  
  
Roy speaks again from Cole’s left. “Meet Johny Stompanato, Cole.” Cole spares a quick glance towards his partner and spots an expression that he can’t quite read. Roy is staring straight at Stompanato, and Cole can see the intense look in his fellow detective’s eyes, as if he were daring the other to challenge him. Cole turns his head away quickly, confused, as Roy cocks his head mischievously and continues talking.  
  
“He has the biggest schlong in Hollywood and the smallest gun.”  
  
_What?_ At that last statement, Cole turns his head towards his partner again, just to make sure he’s hearing him correctly. “Or maybe that’s the other way around. I can never quite remember.”  
  
Cole catches the cheeky smile that follows the end of Roy’s sentence. He feels a little out of his element — so far, this interaction has been stranger than anything he has ever experienced before. He is still fairly new to Ad Vice, maybe this is just how some vice detectives interact with their informants? It’s an odd conclusion to come to, but it’s the only seemingly plausible one Cole can think of.  
  
Now it’s Stompanato’s turn to retaliate. “You’re a funny guy, Roy. Haven’t I always said what a funny guy Roy is, and how much fun it would be to get together with him sometime?” the gangster says, eyes following Roy as the detective sits. Cole takes the seat between the two, still observing the other man’s expression. Stompanato’s eyes hold a look similar to the one Cole saw in his partner’s.  
  
Seriously, what is _up_ with these two? If Cole didn’t know any better, he would think that they were… flirting? But of course that can’t be right.  
  
Men don’t flirt with each other.  
  
Cole turns his gaze back to Roy, who is still looking Stompanato straight in the eye with a strange intensity. It’s almost like he doesn’t care anyone else is there. Cole is so convinced that his partner is ignoring the existence of any other human being around that he’s surprised when Roy mentions him in his next comment. “Poor Johny - he’s the dark, sensitive type. He’s a serviceman too, Cole. Johny was at Okinawa.”  
  
This seems to break whatever weird staring contest the detective and the gangster had been having, and Stompanato finally shifts his gaze from Roy to Cole. “You were in the crotch?”  
  
Cole nods. “Sixth Marines.”  
  
Stompanato reaches out and picks up his glass from the table before continuing.  
  
“The Lieutenant who won the Silver Star up on Sugar Loaf.” He then lifts his glass in a mock toast and points at him with his other hand. “I’ve heard of you.”  
Cole sighs in frustration. Why does that have to follow him everywhere? “Something like that.”  
  
Cohen’s voice rings from across the table. “Alright, have we finished flirting?” _Huh, that was a strange choice of words._ “You got something to discuss, Roy, or are you gonna stand around beating the meat while my lunch gets cold?” _Alright, now this is getting weirdly sexual._  
  
Cole decides to take control of the situation and bring it back into the general vicinity of his comfort zone. "We have some questions,” he says firmly. Cohen just smirks at him.  
  
“Do I need my lawyer?”  
  
Cole sighs, taking his notebook out of his pocket and opening it to the section on their current case. He looks up at Cohen, ready to catalog every move the other man will make.  
  
“Your brother-in-law, Lenny Finkelstein, was selling stolen morphine. He had one third of the shipment,” he begins.  
  
Cole watches as Cohen shifts ever-so slightly in his seat. “Old news, kid.” His eyes shift to the left. “I don’t know anything about what Lenny was up to.”  
  
The detective scoffs inwardly. _This man should never take up acting._  
  
He leans forward slightly in his seat. “So I’m supposed to believe that you don’t know what happened to the rest of the shipment?” After a small pause, Cohen replies.  
  
“Lenny, God rest his soul,” he gestures up to the heavens, “was a moron. He was family though, and I haven’t made a beef about that so-” he points at Cole with the hand holding his cigar, “count yourself lucky, kid. The H is a filthy habit. And I don’t condone it. The simple solution would be to have all the dope fiends put down.”  
  
_Well then you’d be out of business, wouldn’t you?_ “So you don’t know where he got the morphine?”  
  
“Kid,” the man leans forward on the table, “ask a question you might get an answer to.”  
  
Raising his eyebrows, Cole glances back down briefly at his notebook. This was becoming much more tedious than it had to be.  
  
“We believe there’s a link between a group of Marines and the morphine stolen from the SS Coolridge. One of those Marines was shot to death in a club last night.”  
  
Cohen leans back in his seat. Cole can make out a hint of a smug smile on his face. “I wouldn’t know anything about that.”  
  
_Who in their right mind would buy that sorry excuse of a lie?_ Cole muses. “So you haven’t heard anything about what happened at the 111 Club?”  
  
“What can I say, kid? I’m shocked that, in the land of opportunity, Uncle Sam’s finest feel the need to resort to crime. It’s a dangerous business. I,” he points to himself with both hands, “can attest to that. I’d recommend they get out of the life. Quickly.”  
  
Roy, seemingly knowing that Cole has no more questions to ask, speaks up. “A few negroes saying goodbye on the sidewalk will never make the papers, Mickey,” the detective leans in closer to the crime boss, “but we had a judge in Pasadena say adios the other day. Prominent white people popping their clogs makes everyone nervous.”  
  
Cohen nods slightly. “You know dope has never been my thing, Roy. It’s always been for schmendricks like Jack D and Jimmy Utley. But I’ll ask around and I’ll get back to you.” He then raises his arm to flag a waiter as Roy puts out his cigarette. “Hey, you boys want some lunch? How about a drink?”  
  
Roy shakes his head before standing. Cole follows his lead. “We’ll take a raincheck on that,” Roy replies. “Come on, Cole, we’re leaving.”  
  
Cole makes his way through the restaurant and out the front door. He stops just a few steps out, letting Roy pass him so he can lead him to where he had parked; Cole had decided he would come back to get his own car later. Together, they walk down the block and around the corner into the N Sycamore parking lot to Roy’s Cadillac. Approaching the vehicle, Roy fishes the keys out of his pocket and dangles them out towards Cole, his eyebrows raised in a silent question. Cole shakes his head. “You’re behind the wheel.”  
  
Roy just rolls his eyes and shrugs his shoulders in a _you’re missing out_ kind of way and walks over to the driver’s side. Cole heads to the other side of the car and opens his door, but he pauses before getting in. “What was with you and that Stompanato guy?”  
  
Roy, who had been moving to sit down in his seat before Cole had spoken, stops for a moment before standing back up outside the vehicle. He sighs like he wants to do just about anything other than have this conversation. “What do you mean?”  
  
Roy’s adverse reaction only spurs Cole’s curiosity. “ _I mean_ , why were you two looking at each other like that?”  
  
Roy’s face instantly becomes unreadable. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  
  
Cole raises his eyebrows. “Oh come on, Roy, like hell you don’t know what I’m talking about. That’s not how you talk to everyone, I know that, so what was up?”  
  
But Roy is silent and his face gives nothing away. _Okay, maybe I’ll just have to rile it out of him_. Cole shuts his door and starts walking around the front of the car towards his partner, stopping a few feet away from him. He crosses his arms for good measure.  
  
“Wow Roy, usually you can’t shut the hell up, but now you’re not gonna say a damn thing? What are you hiding, huh?”  
  
Still no response.  
  
Cole keeps up his tactic — he takes a few steps closer.  
  
“So, cat got your tongue, Roy?” He laughs condescendingly. If anything is going to get Roy riled up, it’ll be Golden Boy getting cocky. “Jesus, Roy, you seriously looked like you either wanted to beat that guy to a pulp or fuck the shit out of him, and with you not saying anything either way I have just as much reason to believe the second option as I do the first.”  
  
That might have been a low blow, but Roy’s eyes narrow at him slightly. Cole celebrates inwardly at getting a reaction. He keeps on, stepping closer.  
  
“You know, silence can be viewed as a confession in the right circumstances, Roy. And right now, you’re not helping yourself. So just tell me what was going on in there and I’ll stop believing you wanted to fuck your little Stompanato friend.”  
  
If looks could kill, Cole would have died right then and there. He can tell Roy is seething with anger, but why won’t he just tell him? Cole narrows down the possibilities — maybe Roy has some corrupt operation going on or maybe he’s just being stubborn. Either way, Cole wants to know. So, against his better judgement, he pushes harder. He steps even closer, so he’s only about a foot away from the other.  
  
“Or maybe,” Cole gets up in his partner’s face and lowers his voice in manufactured disgust, “you wanted _him_ to fuck _you_.”  
  
That seems to do it for Roy, and Cole can barely react before he’s being shoved. He lands hard on his ass on the pavement. He waits for Roy to come at him again, but he hears no footsteps coming his way. He looks back up at Roy, half shocked and half expectant. The other man hasn’t moved, but there’s a defiance in his eyes that wasn’t there before. A moment of silence passes before he speaks.  
  
“So what if I did?”  
  
His partner’s words take a few moments to register in Cole’s brain.  
  
“What?” Cole asks in disbelief.  
  
Roy stares back at him. “You heard me.”  
  
Cole just blinks in response, then looks down at the ground to think. _Does Roy really mean that? If he does… oh God, what have I done?_  
  
“Roy, I…” he looks up at the other man from his spot on the ground. Cole's mouth is open, but he can’t find any words to say, so he just shuts it again. When he does, Roy is the first to break eye contact. His eyebrows furrow and he looks down at the ground with an expression Cole never thought he’d see on Roy’s face.  
  
Guilt.  
  
He’d made Roy — the supposedly heartless detective, of all people — feel _guilty_. Damn, he had really fucked up.  
  
In the back of his mind, however, there’s a voice telling him that he’s doing the right thing, that men who liked other men are wrong and disgusting, that they’re sinners. That’s what he’d been taught at least, and he had agreed all his life. Well, most of it. The war had really taken a toll on his so-called ‘morals’, and there were many things he had turned a blind eye to while he was in the Marines. Homosexuality happened to be one of them. Besides, in the Marines, there were usually no dames around, and with the pent up energy and adrenaline that came with the fight, it was basically a given that a few men would turn to each other for release. Cole could understand that.  
  
But that was not Roy’s situation; living in L.A. meant that there was a steady stream of girls moving in and out of the area. Roy has all the birds in the city to choose from — because what woman wouldn’t want him with his fancy suit, expensive car, and his confidence? Well, the confidence that Cole had just gone and destroyed, that is. Fuck.  
  
Cole had always been repulsed by homosexuals — he couldn’t understand why those with the means of getting a chick would choose to go after something so unnatural and vulgar instead. He had always pictured so-called “queers” as the reject finks of society. But now, here was Roy — a man of charisma, success, wit, and confidence like you wouldn’t believe — showing him that maybe, just _maybe_ , he was wrong.  
  
The sound of a car horn jerks Cole out of his thoughts. He looks up, realizing that he’s still on the ground, and sees that Roy has gotten into the driver’s seat of the car and is looking over at him. “You coming?” His partner says in a flat voice. He seems tired, the distant look in his eyes a sharp contrast to the intensity they had held just minutes ago. Cole blinks a few times before simply nodding and pushing himself off the ground. Roy turns his gaze back towards the windshield, his hands on the wheel as he waits for Cole to get situated. Once Cole shuts his door, Roy turns the key in the ignition and the car’s engine roars to life. As relieved as Cole would be if Roy resolved to never talk about this incident again, Cole feels the weight of the damage he’s done to both his partner and their relationship. So, no matter his views — or whatever views he had thought he had, he’d need to think all of this over later — he decides he can’t leave this mess the way it is. He takes a breath, thankful that today is one of the few days Roy had decided that putting the top up sounded like a fine idea.  
  
“Hey, Roy?”  
  
Roy’s hand is still on the key, so he leans back before he turns his head just slightly towards Cole in response. Cole opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. He realizes he has no idea what to say. After a period of silence passes, Roy just turns his eyes to the front again and wraps his fingers around the handbrake, but he doesn’t release it. Cole looks over at his partner. The older detective is staring down at the wheel in front of him, frowning, seemingly deep in thought. Cole decides not to disturb him. After a minute or two, Roy finally speaks.  
  
“I know what you must think of me,” he starts. Cole opens his mouth to respond, but Roy stops him. “Just… let me talk, okay?”  
Cole nods and looks at him intently.  
  
Roy takes a breath before starting again. “I know what you must think of me. First, I just want you to know that I’m not a danger to you or anyone else in that regard. Even though I’m attracted to… different people than normal, I’m not dangerous. Second, I’ll talk to Colmyer about either having you reassigned to a new partner or back to homicide. Third, I-” he pauses when his voice starts to waver and he unsuccessfully tries to level it, “I am the way I am, and as much as I want to be normal, I… I can’t. Trust me, I’ve tried. But it’s a part of me. I can’t change, as much as I may hate myself for it sometimes. So before you go and tell me off for being a disgusting, fucked-up, vile poof, I wanted to tell you that I already know I am one. So no use wasting your breath.” His voice cracks on the last word of his rant, exposing the emotions he’s still trying to hide under his usual nonchalant manner. He then screws his eyes shut and leans forward to rest his head on the steering wheel in front of him.  
  
Seeing his partner like this and hearing the man apologize for just short of his existence makes Cole feel a horrible ache in his chest. He takes a moment to collect his thoughts; he wants to choose his next words carefully.  
  
“Roy,” he begins, keeping his voice soft, “I don’t want to be reassigned.”  
  
Roy doesn’t take his head off the steering wheel, but instead just turns his head slightly to look at the other. He huffs a small laugh. “That’s hard to believe.”  
  
Cole leans forward in his seat so they can see each other better. “I really don’t, Roy. I don’t care who you’re attracted to as long as you’re committed to the job, alright?”  
  
Roy still doesn’t lift his head from the wheel, but he does let out a sigh that Cole guesses is at least partly relief when he sees the muscles in Roy’s face relax just a little. That at least got them somewhere, so Cole keeps talking.  
  
“I may have been raised with more… traditional views on the subject, but I’d have a special place in hell lined up just for me if I tried to assert that I never heard about any of this stuff in the Marines.” This gets a small chuckle out of Roy, and Cole can feel a smile tugging at his own lips. “I guess what I’m trying to say, Roy, is that I’ve really only seen one side of this — the religious, conservative side of it, that is — but I’m not adverse to seeing it from another angle. Well, an appropriate angle, of course.” Another snicker from Roy. That’s good. That’s very good. Cole looks down at his feet for a moment before looking back at the other man, trying to convey the sincerity of his next statement.  
  
“Roy, you’re my partner. That means that, even on the most basic level, we’re on the same side. I haven’t known you for very long, but I know both from what others have told me and through personal experience that you’re a very talented detective. I think there’s a lot that I can learn from you, case-related or not.”  
  
After Cole finishes, Roy looks at him for a short while, as if trying to figure out if he’s being genuine. Cole holds his gaze. It’s a strangely pleasant moment; it feels like they have finally come to an understanding about each other, like there is a new level of respect between the both of them. Roy looks away first, pushing himself off of the steering wheel and wrapping his fingers around the hand brake again. This time, he does release it, but before he can take his foot off the brake and roll out of the lot, Cole puts his hand on Roy’s shoulder. Roy looks down at the hand resting on him then up at Cole, a questioning look on his face.  
  
“You alright to drive?” Cole asks him. Roy chuckles and looks at him mockingly out of the corner of his eye.  
  
“Sweetheart, I think I’d have to be bleeding out from a bullet to the heart before I’d choose to pass the keys off to you. Anything less than that and we’d be in _more_ danger if you took the wheel with how badly you drive.”  
  
Cole laughs at the quip. It was good to see Roy at least partly back to his normal, crass self. He sees the smile on Roy’s face as the man turns his attention forward again. “Alright then, _partner_ ,” the older man says, “let’s go see what they’ve got for us.” With that, Roy finally takes his foot off of the brake and they pull out onto the road ahead of them.  
  
They’re stopped at a light maybe halfway to the station when Roy breaks the pleasant silence the two had been sitting in. “Hey, Cole?”  
  
“Yeah, Roy?” Cole glances to his left to find Roy looking back at him.  
  
“Thanks.” Cole feels his face relax into a smile.  
  
“You’re welcome.”

**Author's Note:**

> Like in the game, this takes place after Roy exposes Cole's affair to the the mayor, DA, and commissioner, but before it gets out to the press. So when Donnelly tells Roy to come with him to his office before they interrogate Courtney, I like to think that Roy keeps looking back at Cole before finally following the Captain because, after their little bonding experience outside the Mocambo Club earlier that day, he feels bad about what he did. Also it would explain why Roy's voice breaks at the end of the eulogy at Cole's funeral - he had considered Cole a friend.
> 
> \------  
> Now that I've gotten that out, please leave a comment if you feel up to it, I always appreciate hearing from people!
> 
> UPDATE: Apparently, there actually is a parking lot on N Sycamore.


End file.
